My Story
by onyx-dreams
Summary: Lotsa cussing in this so beware. Not everyone looks at the reasons behind a persons actions. She was no exception. Maybe if they would listen about her past then they can finally understand why she was the way she was...


My Story

By Onyx-dreams

Disclaimer: I do not and will never own Golden Sun, Camelot, or Nintendo. So PPPTTTTHHHHHHH!!!!!!

My story? Who wants to know of my past? I am merely a normal person doing her best to survive in cruel world. What I have done, the road I have traveled that has given me my reputation, was the only option that was offered to me at the time. It is dark and twisted, filled with innocent blood, sins, tears, pain, and hatred. My tale is long so if you are truly interested in hearing it, make yourself comfortable and be ready to sit here for a couple of days.

Where to start? How about before I was born. My parents had been married for a couple of years before I had come to the world. They were abusive to each other, beating one another on a regular basis, going to sleep with broken bones and bruised egos that only built up their already existing hate for each other. But yet they loved each other. It is truly strange to come across a relationship such as theirs. There was such a passion in it that it could lead to either extreme hate or something deeper than love, something that cannot have a word placed upon it, it was so fiery, so destructive. That is what my element is all about, passion, destruction, hate, consuming all in its path. These lead to me being created, so thus is the core of who I am, the reason for my innate violence which none can understand.

One day, on the Vernal Equinox and the hottest day of that year, I was born. The heat was at a record high of 139 degrees. My mother had only been in labor for four hours. The moment I had reached the world my mother had died of hyperthermia. My father was stricken at his mate's death and has blamed me for her death ever since I was little. I have had many beatings, which many of my scars are from; they were almost daily. I remember one day I had gone to bed with whip marks all over my body, a broken arm, two teeth knocked out, and three cracked ribs. I wouldn't come out of my room for three days no matter how much my dad apologized to me, begged to me to come out. It was that day that I learned what hate was, what cruelty and violence was all about. It was that day that I promised myself to revenge myself for what my father had done to me. He would pay for all the pain and suffering he had placed me through. From then on I had begun to excise my body, tone it, strengthen it, until I could achieve my goal.

Then one day something strange had happened. I was being put through my daily beating when something just snapped. My eyesight had turned red and I felt a strange energy laced with my hate rise up within me. I was focused on what I had wanted to do to my father when he suddenly caught fire. He wasn't fazed by this, being a fire adept and all, but had become extremely angry that I had dared do such a thing to him. Most adepts don't show their powers till their late teens, so here was this twelve-year-old fire child setting her father alight. He then decided that my beatings would now consist not only of being punched and hit, but also being burned by his psynergy.

I was amazed at the power I now held. Now my daily exercise could include both the physical and the psynergy. He would not get away unredeemed. Every day I did my routine of push-ups, pull-ups, lifting weights, wrestling with the neighborhood kids, and running to strengthen my body. Along with this I learned to harness my psynergy, sharpening, honing it into the very dagger that would relieve me of all the pain I have ever experienced. That man would die. By the forces that bestowed their power upon me he would die.

And soon my opportunity came.

It had taken a few months and many more beatings but his day came. I was just turning thirteen. I had figured out about a month ago that my strength and power surpassed him because the fire had stopped burning me and every time he brought his hand down to slap me it felt like a breeze of air. But I didn't let him know that. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

_*****_

Imagine. . .a dark, cold autumn  stormy night with wind howling like banshees. . .I was sitting with my father before the hearth trying to get as much heat as possible which also meant sitting very close to the fire. As I scooted forward to gather more of the precious warmth, my father snapped at me once again.

_"Look here you little wench, that is my fire! I started it with my own, more powerful psynergy so I get to reap the warmth! You're lucky I even let you stay within one mile of my beautiful flames. Stupid bitch! Go to hell and burn for the pain you caused me by killing you're mother! You little fuck!!" he screamed. He raised his hand to back slap me._

_But I had had enough. As he swung I caught his hand as if it were nothing. My father grew enraged at my rebelliousness. "Who the fuck do you think you are whore? You think you can stop me?" he laughed insanely. I narrowed my eyes. Releasing my grip on his hand I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to where I could whisper in his ear._

_"I hate you, you fucking bastard. This is for thirteen years of pain, suffering, and confusion," I whispered as I kneed him in the groin as hard as possible. He fell to the floor gasping in pain. All I could do is smirk. "How does it feel now you son of a bitch? Do you like the pain? Because there is a fucking lot more of where that came from!" I screamed, kicking him in the ribs. My demented smirk grew as I heard them crack. "Do you know the hell you put me through? Dumbass, of course you wouldn't. You're to fucking stupid to even comprehend! Take this bitch! A taste of your own medicine! FLARE WALL!" I watched my father's face contort in horror as he watched the crackling wall of super hot flames approach him. I thought it was so hilarious that I started laughing. It was even funnier after the flames had died around him and he was rolling in pain, the majority of hi clothing burned off. His skin was covered in second and third degree burns, charred, and even hanging off in places, blood oozing everywhere. He stopped rolling after a while, and by this time my perverse giggles had worn off. He glared at me. In a raspy voice he started to say, "Menardi, you little fuck. When I get through with you-" I interrupted him. "You'll what you old geezer? Send one of your puny little sparks flying at me? Moron! I am ten times more powerful than your sorry ass! I will hear no more bullshit from you! FLARE STORM!" The last look on my father's face still makes me laugh to this day. . ._

_*****_

**A/N:**

Me: You like? No like?

David: Burn baby, BURN! Flame Onyx to the depths of Hell where she belongs Dammit!

Me: -.o You are gonna die bastard. . .

David: I'm not gonna go alone! The reviewers will push you down with me! There flames are more demonic than Hell's if they can put their minds to it!

Me: *shakes head sadly* Plz review. It would mean a lot to me! Until next time if I get positive reinforcement!


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